


Poker Night

by purplerhino



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 07:08:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1419216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplerhino/pseuds/purplerhino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First of my answers to the "Five First Lines" Challenge</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poker Night

"Doctor? Why are you wearing a dress?" Rose looked up from her magazine to see him trying to sneak in.

She was trying very hard not to start laughing. She was biting the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste blood.

"Because the sheep costume wouldn't fit me," he shrugged as if this was the most natural thing in the universe. Evidently, since sneaking in had failed, he was going for nonchalant.

"The sheep costume," she repeated slowly. She set aside the latest news on Britany's 8th trip to detox and focused solely on the man standing across the room in a frilly blue dress holding a shepherd's crook.

Jack chose that moment to step through the door. He was wearing about twenty pounds of raw wool, a headband with lamb ears and a purple bow around his neck. He had a full case of hyper-vodka tucked under his arm.

"Hey, you're up. Did your night of sappy romance movies and ice cream go well?" Jack was moving across the consol room, completely at ease with his venture into animal impersonation.

"Wolf in sheep's clothing?" Rose raised an eyebrow.

Jack just grinned.

"What happened?" She actually dared to ask.

"Never play open bid poker with Jack in a Harisian bar." The Doctor looped the shepherd's crook on an arm of the coat rack and stomped across the grated floor. It really brought out the flounce of the dress.

"I take it you lost." Rose pressed her lips together in a thin line.

"Worse. Jack won." The Doctor threw his hands into the air and stomped his way down the hall, no doubt to seek his room, or the wardrobe.


End file.
